


There's Not That Much of a Difference Between a Theologian and a Private Eye

by willowoak_walker



Category: The Room Where It Happened (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, religious musings, there is a shipper, warning: a bug is eaten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 19:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoak_walker/pseuds/willowoak_walker
Summary: Sometimes your friend is trying to live a life of faith when his religion hasn't existed in a very long time, and you don't really know how to be supportive.





	There's Not That Much of a Difference Between a Theologian and a Private Eye

Seshmir didn't give Tessa the pamphlet, but he's busy with a client when she arrives, and it's there, so she reads it. Seshmir's Goddess is attested to in some stories of the Dawn Wars, but not in great detail. He seems to have put together a canon out of quotes from the holy texts of real religions.

It's a little... desperate. A few lines here, some there, an entire paragraph from the Horan telling of the Raven Queen's death. Seshmir's skills as an investigator are at least as obvious here as they are in the fact that he has his client leaving happy.

The picture that pulls together is sketchy. A Goddess, creator of life, who fought valiantly against the Traitor Gods and then died. Or perhaps was left behind. No-one knows her name. There's just -- Tessa counts the pamphlet's pages. She picked up the biggest one. Twenty-five.

It's not over-written, to be fair. But still. A full page of that is citations.

"Tessa?" Seshmir looks at her around the door. "I'm sure you didn't come to read my pamphlets."

"No, that's right," Tessa says. She puts it down. "I wanted to hire you."

  


***

  


Tessa browses. Dragonborn evidently  _ do  _ celebrate their birthdays -- well, hatchdays -- and she's sure she can find  _ something  _ for Seshmir at a bookstore.

"Can I help you, Ms. Blackmoor?" The bookstore's owner is a gangley young tiefling, gold-skinned and with spiny horns.

"I'm looking for something for a friend's birthday," Tessa explains. "But I'm not really sure what he'd like. He's a warlock, and a private investigator, but..." She trails off. Probably there are books about how to do warlocking and investigating well, but Seshmir would probably be hurt by the suggestion that he wasn't very good at it already. And there's bound to be some new magic tool for something useful, but Tessa doesn't know how to tell what wouldn't be a scam. She's never seen Seshmir use a giant magnifying glass. He keeps one in his office, but that's probably just for show.

His office, with his  _ pamphlets _ , and their careful quotations from holy books...

"Do you have anything about the Dawn Wars?"

  


***

  


Seshmir winces when they sing to him, which is fair. Tessa is not a very good singer, and she's honestly not sure Orron's even trying. She's also not sure that they actually got the right day, but if you don't tell your friends your birthday, you have to be prepared for a surprise birthday party that is actually surprising.

Corra got him yarn and knitting needles. Tseer gave him some talon-care equipment. Orron got him swing dance lessons. Tessa's jealous. Seshmir is studying the box Sahiri got for him with great suspicion -- it has air holes -- when Corra makes a startled noise and goes to get her jacket. Tessa glances at the pile of presents -- hers is there, carefully wrapped but still obviously a book. Jenkins is perching on it and grooming a wing idly. Seshmir very carefully lifts the lid of the box, and makes a noise of delight.

Tessa looks away. That bug is too big. She's just deciding that she can probably get away with saying she won't pet it when she hears a horrific cracking noise. Her hand is on the hilt of her sword before she realizes that it's just Seshmir biting the bug in half.

Well. She won't have to pet it.

Corra looks at the bug, and at Seshmir, and asks Orron for some more napkins. Seshmir pointedly prestidigitates himself clean, and then does the same to the table. Orron snickers.

"I don't think Sahiri meant for you to eat that," Tessa says.

"Jenkins doesn't eat, though," Seshmir says. "Except pain and suffering." Tessa rolls her eyes.

"I don't know about Sahiri," Corra says, "But I don't think Otto wants you to eat this."

"Otto decided to give you something to give me?" Seshmir asks, reaching for the small box with the bright ribbon.

"They said they didn't think they were going to see you again before now," Corra says. She looks slightly wistfully at the box. Seshmir pushes the plate of cookies toward her.

"They've moved more and more into politics," he says, "And every time I see them now they mention you." Corra's ears grow redder where the skin is thin. Seshmir smirks. "They think very highly of you."

Tessa coughs. "Corra's birthday isn't till June, so Otto has some time to figure out the perfect present for her. What did they get  _ you? _ "

It's apparently some kind of in-joke, because Seshmir outright grins at the little pendulum. He picks it up and set it swinging, hanging from his claws. He hits Jenkins in the beak with it before the little fiend realizes what he's planning.  _ Tessa  _ saw it coming, so she allows herself to feel smug and eat a cookie when the fiend-Raven flapped hurriedly away from her present.

Seshmir picks it up and unwraps it. He looks curiously at the front cover -- battered almost to the point of being illegible -- and flips it open. He looks up at Tessa.

It's often hard to read a dragonborn's face, even when you know them.

Tessa hasn't seen that expression before.

"Thank you," Seshmir says.

"You're welcome."

Seshmir pulls out his inevitable notebook, produces a pencil from his hat, and makes a note. He flips briefly through the pages of Tessa's present, but he -- unlike most people Tessa knows -- has social skills. He wraps all his presents neatly back up and tucks them tidily away.

  


***

  


"What did you get Seshmir?" Corra asks. The building across the road is thoroughly boring. Nothing's on fire, and no-one has come rushing out in a rage. 

"A copy of  _ The Lay of Basalt Baralthan _ in the original draconic," Tessa says absently. "It talks about the traitor gods." Corra is silent while Tessa stares at the building. Something's moving behind one of the windows -- no, just the wind moving the curtains.

"Why?"

"Oh, it might talk about his Goddess, I thought." Tessa shrugs. "He's making his holy text up out of references and allusions in normal things. He's got like ten pages of it. I thought he might like another source, you know?"

"That's very thoughtful, Tessa," Corra says. There's another long pause while Tessa stares menacingly at the building across the street and Corra stares imploringly at Tessa.

"I thought you disapproved," she says at last.

"If the only person who believed in my Goddess were a demon I might listen to it, too," Tessa says. "I disapprove of the _demon_."

"Tessa, do the Keepers ever have you go to a school and lecture the kids about drugs and how they shouldn't use them?"

"Yep," Tessa says. "Hey, something's on fire. Let's go."


End file.
